A Thousand & One Hats
by Marisol Akyri
Summary: A drabble series I shall start up, with my chapters based off little prompts I feel inspired for or anything you the reader wants me to write. For I love the Hatter and this whole Alice Mini-Series too much to not write about it :3
1. Sims 2

Hatter really didn't like the look Alice was given him.

Or more rather, the look he probably pictured her giving him, upon entering the room. He was too caught up in his current...objective.

The Hatter had his moments, that's for sure. He'd love the spirit of a good fight as much as any man, act devious when the situation demanded it, lose his temper after a long day stuck working in the most horrid establishment in "This crazy mixed up world of yer's". (That place was Starbucks, but that's a story for another day).

The truth of the matter was, that Alice could see what Hatter would do spur of the moment as reasonable. She also knew that there always had been a part inside of him she could label as passive-aggressive. Preferably his feelings towards…Jack.

She wasn't THAT oblivious, and knew that the two would never be friends on the site that Hatter still didn't get why it was named. (Facebook, but that too is a story for another day).

But right now, she felt like she finally had a right to wonder exactly how sane Hatter was.

"H-Hatter…what have you done?!"

A shrug was her only response, the man's face near pressed into the screen. His right hand clicked furiously, his figure hunched.

He really didn't see why she should be that worried. Alice had to have explained this whole contraption a million times over, wasn't she glad he didn't even crack the screen this time in turning it on? Or have sparks shoot off the tower? (Another day, another day).

He felt like he had done himself a pretty good job, able to start everything up and just commence right into his latest obsession without having to bother Alice. But of course, that wasn't good enough. It seemed even when he figured he was doing something right, the Oyster sense of logic won out over his perfectly accepted Wonderland thought process.

But he digressed. There was much to be done. And the only recent discovery of "cheat codes" only boosted his drive to succeed. Yet that didn't stop a hand to reach out to his shoulder, albeit shaky. He was pulled back from the screen, yet his hand still clicking. He had to just finish this last one off…only a few more!

"Hatter?"

All it took was that voice, and her hand atop his to slowly subside the clicking, and have him look up at the brown-haired, blue-eyed Oyster he was proud to call his own. But that was beside the point now.

"Alice?"

"When I showed you how to play The Sims 2 to amuse yourself, I didn't mean like this."

She gestured to the screen, where approximately 4 urns were littered around the virtual house. Or what was left of it, considering that it was burning. A lot. With 4 more little blonde men scurrying around, probably to avoid the same fate of their counterparts. Dressed in red. Screaming.

An awkward moment of silence went between the two. The sounds of distress coming from the computer game only made it worse. Hatter gave a nervous chuckle, eyes now at the keyboard.

"Hehe, justa' bit o' fun." He ran his fingers through the curly black mess that was his hair. Who knew that behind that devilishly handsome face was the psyche of a murderer?

One of the yellow-haired men went down, curled into a ball as he died engulfed by a wall of flames. The remaining three seemed to try and desperately push against the walls of the doorless room.

Alice winced. Hatter tried to hold back his grin.

She didn't even bother asking the name all 8 of these men surely shared.

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**was it alright? i apologize if i had them act ooc, or somethong off. i am going to keep this alive pretty easily i think, with it being break and all. and the facti'm promising myself that i will never write a drabble mre than 500 words. or 1000 (this was around 640ish i think, so i couldn't helpmyself. but i'll try to keep them drabble length!**

**so yes, thankie you for readin! review if you like? and i'll gladly take any suggestions for a chapter or prompt. be it serious, angst, funny, romantic, watever ya want. i'll write for you all :3 **

**ja ne~**


	2. 3 Things Bad About Oyster World

_Hatter found a lot of things topsy-turvy in Alice's Oyster world._

The first and most important being that people here wouldn't know a good cup of tea if it splashed in their faces. Something Alice was forced to prevent many a time after they passed an innocent passerby, drinking what he considered "A disgrace ta' the beauterful institution that was Tea."

"Honestly Hatter, it's not going to kill them."

And all she would receive was stubborn set glare, his brow furrowed as he mumbled out a few choice words. "Well it was killin' me inside. Those 'ittle high-pitch'd whistles ya hear in the wind? That be the last dying screams o' their taste buds Alice, as that sewer water hits their tongues."

The second being that no one understood good fashion.

"Alice ya 'afta be goin' daft on me! There is no way yer gonna see me in such a…such a thing! It be a disgrace ta' all that I am, all that I made myself-"

"-A man who refuses to wear anything darker than pink, throws tea in people's faces, and has a hat fetish."

His kept his gaze steady on the girl, one hand tugging on the collar of his paisley shirt, another on the brim of his much cherished tawny lid. Alice fought the urge to roll her eyes. The man acted like such a child when his sense of style was attacked.

"…It's Cerise. Not pink."

"And you wonder why so many men," and hear she quoted, attempting to mock the accent she (and really all of us) secretly adored, "Seem ta' get a great deal comfortable aroun' ya."

Hatter grumbled, a moot point to quarrel with the girl on her home front. Not to mention he did not want to bring up those memories. (Perhaps that tale will be told later).

And finally he seemed to just have a problem with the men in her world. That was probably his biggest complaint, under the whole "Tea Issue" of course.

At least in Wonderland guys like…Jack, were far and few. For every five Hatter could name on one hand of the no-threat men (AKA Ratty, Club Heads, Dodo, The King, Walrus), he could barely think of even one to accompany.

But here, in Oyster world, it seemed for every man Hatter could deem as no threat to Alice, another ten popped up that could just as easily woo her away. Not that he felt threatened of course.

But Alice really shouldn't have ever dragged him into that one clothing place even he had to learn to hate. Abercrombie & Itch? Whatever it was, whose bat-brained idea was it to have half naked men be prancing around, like it was perfectly normal?!

"They were models Hatter, their only job was to sell the clothing." Hatter snorted at clothing. More like girly shorts and bad hair mousse if you ask him.

"And sneak away with another man's girl it seem'd like ta' me as well! Decidin' to flex those beastl'ay flanks o' arm in front o' ya! He wanted somethin' Alice! And it wasn' gonna be good."

"So that gives you perfectly good reason to break the man's nose, and have us banned indefinitely from the entire chain?"

"…I, I broke his nose?"

"Hatter it's not something to be happy about!"

_Yes there was many a thing wrong with her Oyster world, but in the end it all came down to the same thing. He wanted to be with Alice. So he'd make due, for now._

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**yay! new drabble. not sure the exact prompt i was going for, but it'll make due. i'm so happy that already about 85 views in like 7 hours. amazing it be. and thanks to you three who reviewed. although i would truly love if more did too,,,just to drop a note, say what i need to work on, a new prompt perhaps? i would love to write your suggestions people. although i am planning a 5 part excursion to when alice brings hatter to disneyland,,,perhaps i shall divulge more as i get more in this little series. so tata for now. thanks for reading.**

**~ja ne**


	3. Carl Jung

When asked to describe it, only a few analogies loaded with ambiguity and twice as much vagueness could come to mind.

He could say it was the equivalent of being caged in your own body, thrust behind the wrought iron bars of your mind to be watched upon by a quivering jail keeper. Or maybe it was more like him standing alone, on top of the and right in the middle of a darkened sea with the frothy white waves threatening to overturn this vital sense of balance. Electric sparks bouncing all around in a room, the relentless hiss and zip only adding to the greater decibel of white noise that existed only for the sole purpose to have him bash his head against a wall, to clear the noise. Falling down a tunnel, with the clocks and the butter and the ravens and the writing desks all just riding down due to the gravity, as if waiting just for him to land first so they can crush him to death upon impact. Walking a tightrope, one made of thick secure steel in no danger of snapping, yet below were the voracious jaws of a formless shadow that only seemed to be waiting, knowing that eventually he would fall to their hazardous depths. Totally inconsistent and very abstract mumblings that would be whispered for only the calm night air to hear, as the speaker trembled in a listless sleep, unaware that he was letting loose the hints of the very side he ran from.

A flip of a switch, turn of a dime, snap of a rope.

_How else could you describe it?_, he wondered. And then a quote would always come next.

"Bring me a sane man, and I will cure him."

He read that long ago, back at the Great Library. An Oyster book it was, but her never bothered to question how it ended up in the pyramids of literature that housed the worse-off.

For he took that quote to heart. He wondered exactly what the man, a name now lost to him as did most that he didn't bother to remember, had meant. For didn't everyone want to be sane? Want to function? Want to not be cured, if the only option was the exact opposite of all that life was based off of?

Perhaps he remembered it for no particular reason at all, if only to grasp the idea that there had to be someone out there seemingly worse off than him. In a strictly emotionally-healthy aspect.

No sane man would ever think of a statement like that. Have any reason to.

_Bring me an insane man, and I will kill him._

That would be what the sane man said, if he was able to talk back to the insane one who uttered the original quote in the first place.

There was no help for the Mad.

No cure for a Hatter.

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**one of my favorite quotes of all time. figured i should apply it here any how. and look! a drabble of mine that i actually kept at under 500 words. sorry about the few days late update. i hate how you'll have all these ideas in your head, but when you get to the keyboard it seems all the motivation just drains away. i'll try to get you guys some more tidbits though soon. and lighter ones i suppose. i've heard how some look foward to Hatter at Disneyland. haha that would be very fun to write i can say already. although you'll probably end up having some come your way first, involving starbucks, an argument, and a confusion of sexual orientation. oh i'm so cruel to hatter,,,yet feel no regrets. haha. and maybe, i might turn to write a long-term story. i have the starts of a plot, the ideas racing around trying to come up with a coherent plot. something to do with the white queen. maybe my take on if they would ever do a sequel. (a feeble hope, but there nonetheless.) i would love to see another Alice. this should have been an actual tv series in my book. love it to death. but i digress. hit me with some little prompts you might want done, something that could possibly steer me in the right direction maybe? graci all.**

**~ja ne**


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